


Misfits of The West

by skalety



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Charthur, Fluff, Love them, absolute fucking fluff, anyway this is fluff between my babies, but you deserve better, i havent written anything in three years im sorry?, im sorry, kinda platonic but they cute, this is my secret santa gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:27:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21972823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skalety/pseuds/skalety
Summary: nom nom nom nom
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Misfits of The West

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS MY SECRET SANTA GIFT FOR faber_fabula on twitter dot com! One of the best artists out there and im HONORED hella honored to be your?santa? idk how christmas work but? hope you enjoy it love you love you

Through many occasions, Arthur never thought he’d have seamless nights fall upon him where he wouldn’t have to interfere between fights erupted by the drunken, miserable gang members. He was the all brawn no brain according to Mrs. Grimshaw and Hosea (teasingly but sometimes it’s the truth) so he had to stay awake for most nights to knockout drunk-out-of-his-mind as known as Bill Williamson from picking up a fight with Uncle. Arthur had wondered, in what universe would you want to pick up a fight with an old man? Even if its Uncle, why would someone stoop so low? 

But for the past three days, Arthur has been having blissful days, money was increasing, camp moral was at its best, O’Driscolls were frightened for the time being after the gang had planned an ambush massacring all of them but sparing a guy who is ought to send a message to their half-wit shrub of a leader, but of course they didn’t go easy on them. Arthur glanced at the girls who had pulled their hair down wearing their clean newly patched dresses after Mrs. Grimshaw told them they can have the rest of the day off. The tension was low and that eased him. 

Sighing in content, he ran his hand through his hair noticing that it has gotten to his shoulders almost curling upward at the tip. He knew the gang would tease him about it eventually if they ever found out he purposely grew it out and not because of the lack of attention to his looks as he is known for absolutely neglecting that. It warmed him during the cold nights, and it grew with him through the days travelling from up north all the way to Horseshoe Overlook. He shook his head at the thought of having sentiment for his hairdo and decided to relax for the rest of the day near the fire.

Charles sat near the campfire fiddling with sticks, holding two against each other for measurements and marked them with the tip of his sharp knife. Arthur has seen Charles more than once in such activity, sharpening knives, polishing guns and bows, minding the feather to his arrows for pleasure only. This was his way of having a day off. Sean has said to Charles, more like yelled but that’s just how Sean is, that he doesn’t know how to have fun, which Charles simply replied with an unamused answer, “I am.” 

Arthur sat on one of the big rocks against a huge old tree that they turned into a pergola and usually was Dutch’s seat focused on whatever Charles was doing this time. He held the arrow close to his face with one eye closed and sharpened it with a black shiny stone that can’t be found anywhere laying around so it must be something of value to any bladesmith. Arthur didn’t mean to stare at Charles, admiring the man for who he is regretting not getting to know him better until this very recently. 

He brought one knee to his chest and crossed the other under resting his head against the tree and didn’t see that Charles noticed him staring, “How you holding up here so far?” 

Charles’ voice slightly startled Arthur but quickly acted nonchalant as if he was a teen caught in the act. He shrugged his shoulders, flicked the wrist on his knee and breathed out, “Fine, I guess. Everyone seems happy for the time being.”

The atmosphere within them had a comfortable aura, and for some reason Charles felt a little humorous, “I like your new hairstyle.” He said chuckling after. He looked briefly at Arthur who pursed his lips at the comment then returned back to the arrows.  
Arthur tsked and grumbled a thanks but then clarified, “I just… didn’t have time to get it cut-”

“It suits you.” Charles said giving Arthur a glance then quickly fiddled with his arrows again. 

Arthur nodded mostly to himself trying to figure out how to continue or change the subject. He wasn’t used to these sorts of conversations, people complimenting him or being interested in anything he was doing if it didn’t involve a benefit to themselves. He took the compliment to heart as it was from someone who he deeply respects and never had lied and safe to say had the most luscious hair in the whole gang. 

From the satchel that is always hitched to his hip, Arthur pulled out his torn leather journal and began to doodle mindlessly starting with few lines that meant nothing but then turned it to the hard landscape of the grizzlies he always liked travelling to.

Its one of those times that Arthur wished to have someone to marvel to about his adventures with the strangers he had met. He had met some really, really odd folks. The gang of buffoons he rides with are just another gang in the game, nothing like the mad scientists he had seen, the artists, the politicians, people claiming they are mythical creatures. He had a warm feeling inside when he would sit down and recall those days, no one will believe him or hear him for that matter not because they didn’t care, no they always wanted Arthur to be more open and expressive of his feelings but he just thinks that they don’t care and its too boring and they have a lot more to deal with than child play. 

Yet, he finds himself intrigued to talk to Charles about his latest interactions in Saint Denis, he was kind of nervous that Charles would call bluff on what he will tell him but he gave it a shot.

“You know, I’ve met this lunatic in Saint Denis.” He looked up from his journal slightly smiling as Charles looked at him quizzically. “Alla’ them are crazy, that’s safe to say but, that man, almost wasn’t even a man.” 

For a second he regretted talking in the first place, he wasn’t great at telling stories without rambling or boring the person in front of him, according to him this is why he never bothered, but though the look on Charles’ face encouraged him to continue as he leaned back and pressed his elbow with the feathers on top of the grass to support himself. 

Arthur closed his journal placing it next to him and propped his elbows on his knees, “He’s written them weird messages all over the walls in the alleyways, as if he didn’t want people to see them but also wanted them to find them. He made some sort of a puzzle that I had drawn on the journal. Freaked me out when I saw the star when connecting the dots.”

“What does it mean?”

“Maybe some sort of witchcraft, I wouldn’t know, didn’t wanna show this priest friend of mine afraid he’d wanna punch the demon out of me.” Arthur scoffed laughing to himself then he went silent as he stared at the ground tapping his toes to the grass in some beat. He intertwined his fingers together, in nervous habit he bounced his legs up and down.  
Suddenly Charles chimed, “So? What did you do? You’re not gonna stop there are you?” 

Arthur looked up, “What?”

“What did you do after you figured the puzzle?” 

Arthur shrugged leaning back again, “Ah, you know-”

“You’re not gonna leave me in suspense now!”

Arthur ran his hand through his hair two times, grabbed is journal and settled next to Charles bumping knees together and opened his journal to the final page of his quest. 

“This is the site of that neighborhood in Saint Denis, it aint something… just a little scribble…” Arthur rambled. 

“You sure do have a steady hand.” Charles commented. Immediately a wide smile blasted on Arthur’s face and allowed the compliment to sink in not wanting to retort in his usual self-pitiful remarks. 

He flipped through the pages to show the messages he had seen on the wall and their locations in which Charles recognized from going to that side of town a few times before. Some sort of lunatic would write such horrid poetry in that dump of a city that claims to be the center of civilization, and the worst part of all is when Arthur tells the ending of the tale. The man he had found, a weird looking fella, pale as the moon, slightly point ears, hollow cheeks under his sunken empty eyes. Arthur had seen plenty of gruesome scenes in front of him, hell, he was a part of creating them, he felt empty on many occasions and that nothing mattered, nothing should matter for a man that faces death on daily bases. For some reason, that man he had encountered in that shit-stain of an alleyway, his eyes had lost all sort of emotions and integrity at that point. 

“He devoured that man then he… he told me he’s gonna suck my blood dry.”

“That didn’t faze you didn’t it?” Charles grimaced but then had an amused smile on his face.

Arthur scoffed giving Charles a look, “Me? Afraid of that lunatic? Yeah, that’ll be the day. On my mom’s soul if I were to see that drunk bastard Bill’s bottom I’d probably soil my pants.” 

They both share a quick laugh at that and then stayed quiet. Charles didn’t push further for the story to continue as he had realized how it had ended with that gunslinger’s temper. 

“You sure do find the strangest of people in this side of the country.” Charles started,

“Yep, just when you think you can’t be more surprised in this world…” 

“I’m glad you told me about your journey, gonna have to doublecheck behind my back from now on.” Arthur was flustered scratching the back of his neck and mumbled incoherent things that let his gravely voice drawl on. 

“I think you should have these then,” Charles extended his hand to Arthur, “You’ll be the first to test them, I guess you’ll need it more than me seeing you love to venture out without our knowledge. We all thought you’re looking for a new score. Its okay, I wont rat you out.” With a wink Charles got up and strolled away as Arthur trailed him till he slipped into his tent. Arthur looked down at the arrows Charles was busy creating even before he joined him. He noticed that the tip of the arrow had some sort of oil to them which he figured it could be poisonous or maybe a tranquilizer, he thought he’ll find out when testing it out on a game tomorrow morning. 

Arthur looked down at his opened journal and the arrows and began sketching again, something symbolic this time not his usual still-life drawings. Something that is a symbol of friendship, love and lots and lots of arrows. He trusted Charles with his life, even if he had known him for only half a year, he knew he can depend on him at the roughest of times. He smiled in content at how this evening had ended, on a note way better than he expected. He thought maybe he and Charles get to spend more time together, maybe he’ll take him to West Elizabeth to the big valley where he liked it most, maybe he can tell him of the legendary animals and they can hunt one themselves, and maybe he can learn a thing or two about herbs and the science of alternative medicine. This minor interaction made Arthur think of all the things he and Charles can do together, he felt genuine happiness he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He immediately closed his journal and went back to his tent even though he didn’t feel sleepy, Charles was an early riser earlier than anyone in camp, so Arthur thought of suggesting trying his new arrows with him somewhere away from camp before anyone wakes up. Arthur gave a last sight in content and closed his eyes shut with a smile to his face. 

¬


End file.
